Wyoming Mountain Investigation
Author
Juno Rushdan
Reads
15.7K
Chapters
20
His past has left him scarred But then comes a chance at redemption… Rescuing teenage campers from a fire left Liz Kelley scarred for life. But her Wyoming town isn't all she left behind. Fire marshal Sawyer Powell can't forgive himself for failing to protect her that terrible night. Fifteen years later, a string of suspicious fires brings Liz — now an FBI agent — home. Working the case together gives the former lovers a second chance — but also makes them a killer's target.
Prologue
Sprinting as fast as possible, lungs burning, he ran full-out from the clearing into the dark forest to be sure no one saw him. Once well in the woods, he stopped and leaned against a tree. Heart pounding, he caught his breath.
Beneath black clothes, he sweated from exertion. From the sweltering July night despite the strong breeze. From anticipation pumping in his veins. From fear that his plan might not work.
Come on. It should be an inferno by now. What was taking so long?
Another full minute ticked by. The big house should’ve gone up like dry kindling.
What had he done wrong? Did he need more accelerant? Should he go back to check?
Patience. Just wait.
Looking past the horse stable and two cabins of sleeping teens, he stared at the main house on the hill where Dave and Mabel Durbin lived. He’d made sure no one could help the unsuspecting Durbins. First, he’d locked the doors of the summer camp cabins and then the bunkhouse that was located far behind the stable. The barracks-like building was full of men who worked on the ranch.
Sweat dripped down his face and body, collecting everywhere on his skin. He clenched his jaw, his breath still coming hard from his chest, his nerves strung tight.
A gust of wind whipped through the dry leaves, rattling the brittle branches of the trees overhead. On the hill, smoke rose in the air, the smell filling his nose. Finally, the fire was taking hold. Flames burst to life on the house with a crackle that swelled to a roar. Like a supernatural monster, crimson and gold, it clawed and crawled its way up the sides of the house.
More perspiration rolled down his face, stinging his eyes. He lifted his mask and wiped his face with a gloved hand, but caution had him pull it back down just in case.
The fire blazed bright now, pulsing with hunger, growing bigger and hotter, spreading across the roof. He stared with grim satisfaction.
So beautiful. Powerful. Hypnotic against the pitch-black sky.
His creation. He’d been the one to give it life and set it loose.
A sudden gust of dry wind, bearing hard from the north, swept over the house, fanning the flames. Carrying sparks on the breeze to nearby trees. Glowing embers rained from the branches, falling on the two cabins. It wasn’t long until the timbers of both roofs caught fire. The flames swirled and swelled, slithering down the walls, burning faster than he imagined possible. Much faster than the main house.
This wasn’t part of his plan. A few of those sleeping teens trapped inside were innocent. The rest he blamed even more than the Durbins. He’d intended to make them suffer, too, once they were older and had more to lose than just their lives.
Fate was intervening, making it happen sooner rather than later. In a way they were all to blame. Guilt by association. The fire would make them pay. Without remorse. Without mercy. It would punish those responsible. This was sweet vengeance.
After tonight, the summer camp on the ranch would close forever.
He smiled, excitement bubbling in his chest. Watching the flames do what was necessary, he was enthralled. No. He was in love. This was the best high of his life. Better than playing football and scoring touchdowns. Better than sex.
If only he’d known what a thrill this would be, he would’ve done it sooner. For Timothy...and for Birdie.
There weren’t any screams yet. The cabins weren’t up to code and didn’t have smoke detectors. No alarms to wake them. Maybe the smoke would kill them in their sleep before the flames. Not quite the punishment or death he’d wanted for them. They deserved much worse.
Twigs snapped, hurried footsteps trampling the earth. He spun in the direction of movement—to his left in the woods. Two figures raced toward the clearing.
No!
A teenage girl darted from the tree line first, her long hair flowing in waves under the moonlight. Lean, pale limbs pumped hard in panic.
Liz. She worked at the camp and was on his little hit list. Why wasn’t she locked in the girls’ cabin with the others?
The answer burst from the woods, not far behind her. Sawyer Powell. Her stinking boyfriend. He wasn’t a camper or a worker and had no business being there.
Sawyer was like his self-righteous brother, Holden. The former was the star of the basketball team, the latter was the quarterback. Golden boys who thought they walked on water at high school. Did whatever they wanted. Of course, he’d break the rules by being here.
“I’m calling 911.” Liz was dialing as she ran.
No, no. Liz and Sawyer, a pair of meddlers, getting in the way. The dude ranch was smack-dab between both towns. One of the fire departments might get there in time.
Liz bolted to the double doors at the front of the girls’ cabin and yanked on them. “I can’t get it open! They’ve been tied shut!”
Although he’d made knots that would be hard to undo, in hindsight, chains and padlocks would’ve been smarter than using ropes.
“Break a window!” Sawyer grabbed a rock and shattered a windowpane, smashing around the frame. The lanky guy hopped up, disappearing inside the boys’ cabin.
Liz did the same, scrambling into the other cabin. Those two were ruining everything.
Fists clenched, every sense alive, he gritted his teeth. This was not how it was supposed to end, with Liz Kelley and Sawyer Powell being heroes.
Teens dressed in pajamas funneled out through the broken windows, jumping onto the grass. Coughing and gagging, they backed away from the cabins. Some of them hurried up the hill toward the main house, shouting for the Durbins and yelling for help.
Liz and Sawyer might have stopped his plan, but they wouldn’t stop him.
Everyone involved with what happened to Timothy would either burn or wished they had after he was finished with them. All the people who’d remained silent. Those who had looked the other way. Those dirty souls who benefited.
He saw their faces. Knew their names. Not only the ones on the ranch tonight. There were others and there would be justice. He would light their world on fire and burn it to the ground. One day. No matter how long he had to wait.
Liz emerged from the fiery cabin with the last girl. They backed away from the flames as Sawyer climbed out the boys’ cabin window. Dropping to the ground, he gulped in air. Liz turned away from the cabins. Her jaw dropped and she took off.
He pivoted to see where she was going. The horse stable was burning, too! The wind was spreading the fire with blistering speed, feeding it fast, making the thinner structure of the barn go up like tinder. Horror whooshed through him. Helpless animals weren’t supposed to get hurt.
Liz threw open the doors and rushed into the stable. A moment later, horses darted from the barn, one at a time. Could she get the stalls open and save them all in time?
For a painful second, his heart squeezing in his chest, he contemplated helping the horses. But he’d be seen for certain. He would be caught.
Hacking on the ground, Sawyer glanced around. He stumbled to his feet. “Liz!”
“She’s inside the stable!” a girl screamed, pointing at the building engulfed in flames, and Sawyer made a beeline for it.
Men busted through the door of the bunkhouse, storming outside and sprinting into action. Some ran toward the main house while the rest headed for the stable.
Horses were still being set free. Sawyer was almost there. Another horse charged out of the burning barn, but no sign of Liz. Fire shot out through the roof. Sawyer hesitated. Afraid.
With a thunderous crunch, the roof of the stable collapsed, sending sparks shooting into the air like a million mini flares.
Two men wrapped themselves in blankets. Others threw buckets of water on them. Then the men rushed into the stable.
Why bother? Could she have survived?
Doubtful. Even if she had, the chances were slim they’d get her out alive. The only thing that could save Liz now was luck.